


undisclosed desires in your heart

by owilde



Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Coming Out, Fluff, M/M, Personal Growth, Romance, The Author Regrets Everything, Wordcount: 10.000-30.000, they're just soft boys in love, this got a bit out of hand i'll admit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-31
Updated: 2017-03-31
Packaged: 2018-10-13 06:09:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10507866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/owilde/pseuds/owilde
Summary: It would be just a massive joke if Isak somehow ended up having a soulmate.He doesn't even want one, not really. It's silly. If Isak wants to date someone, he can find a girlfriend on his own, thank you very much.(Well, hecan't, and that's sort of the problem.)(Because he doesn't know if the wants agirlfriend, and that's sort of a huge problem.)





	

**Author's Note:**

> SKAM stole my heart, and i just had to write _something_ , and then it accidentally turned into a soulmate au. go figure.
> 
> Title taken from Muse's song " _Undisclosed Desires_ ".

The party is, simply put, lame as hell. Isak's standing in the corner of a room with a can of beer, pleasantly buzzed but not nearly drunk, and he'd feel sorry for himself if it hadn't been his own choice to come. It's not like Jonas had forced him or anything.

Jonas, who earlier promised to hang out with him, is nowhere to be seen. Isak would be surprised if this wasn't probably the tenth time this has happened to him. He's probably off somewhere with a pretty girl, because that's what he's here for, and Isak's not jealous, not really. He doesn't want a pretty girl.

Or, he does, kind of, he supposes, because that's what he's supposed to want.

 _But what if it isn't what you want_ , a nasty voice whispers in his mind, and Isak downs the rest of his shitty beer to shut it up.

The living room is packed, and he's not feeling the crowd at all. Isak would rather be at home, listening to music. Or even doing homework, he's not picky. He just doesn't want to be _here_ , with all of these people.

Suddenly, a person appears next to his left elbow. He turns to look, and it's a girl, and she's smiling at Isak and holding a suspicious bottle of something in her hands. She has short, cropped hair and a lean face – she vaguely looks like Natalie Portman, Isak thinks, and that's kind of good, right?

"Hey," the girl says, and extends her hand. "I'm Emma."

Isak shakes the hand, confused. He needs another beer. Or he needs to get the fuck out of this party. Or both.

"Isak," he introduces. "What's up?"

Emma giggles, obviously drunk, and Isak's feeling more and more uncomfortable by the minute.

"Not much," she says, sipping her bottle. "Here to have a good time." There's a short pause, and then she looks at him excitedly. "Hey, do you have any pills?"

Isak blinks, befuddled. Does he look like a drug dealer? Is that his vibe, now?

"Sorry," he replies, shaking his head. "I, uh, don't. Maybe ask someone else," he says in a polite attempt at getting rid of her.

But she doesn't go. Instead, she links her arm with his and leans closer. Isak can smell her perfume, and it's kind of sickeningly sweet, and she's pressed against him in a way that Isak's not comfortable with. He wants to leave. Fuck Jonas, he's never coming to any of his parties again.

"You know what, Isak?" Emma asks, her voice nearly drowned out by the crowd.

Isak doesn't reply. The front door is kind of close, if he could just squeeze past the crowd blocking the way he could slip out. He doubts anyone would even notice – and why would they even care?

Emma continues. "I think that you're really cute," she shouts, and then giggles, and Isak shoots a bewildered look at her.

"I gotta go," he mumbles. He shakes himself free of Emma's grip and dashes off into the direction of the door. He's pushing people aside, stepping on toes and hitting people with his elbows. Finally, he sees the front door, and slips outside.

The cold evening air hits his face, and Isak feels ten times better immediately. He turns to look back, but Emma hasn't followed him, fortunately. Isak sits down on the lawn in front of the house, leaning against the wall, and lifts his knees up, his arms around them.

Somewhere nearby, a bird's chirping. He hears the sounds of traffic coming from the main street a few blocks away, and it feels comforting, in a way. He leans his head against the wall, and looks up at the sky.

Why did he even come? What's he doing with his life? He should be studying, to get better grades, to get into a good school and live a life he's meant to live. Whatever that entails. A wife, he supposes. Kids. That's what everyone says is the recipe for a fulfilling and rich life, but somehow, Isak feels that it's not for him.

A soulmate. Isak blinks, and smiles a little. It's a stupid idea. And the whole system is flawed. They say that when you fall for a person, if they're the right one, you'll both get matching marks on your arm which… who knows. It's bullshit, anyways. Isak's not sure he even wants a stupid soulmate.

But he can't help but wonder whether there's someone out there for him. Someone who's looking at the same stars as Isak.

Someone.

 

* * *

 

 

Isak stares forlornly at his inner right arm. The skin is as empty and pale (sickeningly pale, really), as it always has been. As it always will be, probably. He had hoped – in vain, he now realizes – that the girl from his P.E class might've been The One. Which is ridiculous, honestly. They'd just had a good ten seconds of eye contact, after which she'd thrown the ball at his head and he'd failed to duck, and she'd giggled softly. It had seemed like something soulmates _would_ do, in the moment. Little things like that. But he now realizes that it was a silly fantasy. Of course, the cute girl from his P.E class isn't his _soulmate_. And besides, the mark doesn't appear like that. And Isak doesn't even know the girl's name. As if she'd be his soulmate.

God, he hates that word. Soulmate. As if it's somehow possible for faith (and he doesn't even believe in faith) to decide that two people (or, he supposes, more than two) are meant for each other. It's ridiculous. There isn't some higher being which dictates people's lives like that, there just isn't.

And, okay, maybe Eskild had found his own soulmate when he'd been, like, _fifteen_ , but that was just a lucky coincidence.

Well, fine. Okay. Isak believes that soulmates can exist for other people. Because he's seen Eskild and his boyfriend, and really, they make you think they'd invented love itself.

But there's no way there's someone out there for _him_. Isak isn't the shining example of an ideal partner, and he knows it. He's kind of a dick, and he's not the most considerate of people, and while he may have _some_ redeeming qualities, he knows not many people would shriek in excitement at the prospect of being his soulmate. He knows this, and therefore it would be just a massive joke if he somehow ended up having a soulmate.

He doesn't even want one, not really. It's silly. If Isak wants to date someone, he can find a girlfriend on his own, thank you very much.

(Well, he _can't_ , and that's sort of the problem.)

(Because he doesn't know if the wants a _girl_ friend, and that's sort of a huge problem.)

Isak rolls his sleeve down and flops down on his bed, a book slipping over to the floor with a soft thud. The ceiling seems suddenly much more fascinating than his biology homework. And he even kind of likes biology, nowadays.

The clock nears seven in the evening but the sun seems to have no intention of setting down. Isak feels the same. He'll probably end up staying up too late once again, twisting and turning in his bed until it's too late to sleep and too early to wake up and nothing makes sense. He hates his sleeping problems, despises them, but he's never seriously considered getting help. He figures he'll either go on until he collapses or then he'll get better – whichever happens first.

He can't even remember for how long it's been like this. Weeks? Months? He can't recall. Time's a bit tricky, Isak thinks, and when you're supposed to remember something abstract like that it's even more tricky. So, who knows. He can't remember the last time he slept properly. It happens.

There's commotion in the living room, which Isak figures is Eskild coming home or Linn leaving, or both. He hears laughter, and something nasty curls inside his stomach. Isak hasn't laughed like that in god knows how long. Well, he's _laughed_ , just… not with any real feeling to it. It's not that he's depressed, or whatever, he just hasn't been up for much lately. He's _feeling down,_ that would be right phrase.

He doesn't know why. Maybe it's stress. School's been stressful, he supposes. And he hasn't really been feeling like he belongs in with his friends. He feels like an outsider, which is strange, and he doesn't know why. But all of that and his insomnia are good enough reasons to feel down. Aren't they? He thinks so.

There's a knock on the door, and Isak groans before sitting up with reluctance.

"Yes?" He calls, and the door creaks open.

Eskild steps in, wearing a mischievous grin that Isak doesn't trust one bit. He closes the door behind him, and sits down on the edge of Isak's bed, fixing his smile on Isak, who kind of wants to run away.

"Isak," Eskild begins, letting his hand rest somewhere near Isak's ankle. "I have an _amazing_ idea."

Which is all Isak needs to know that whatever Eskild is planning, it is definitely not 'an amazing idea' to him. But he relents, and sighs, and asks, "What is it?"

Eskild's grin widens, if possible. His eyes twinkle in a dangerous way. "Well, I was thinking. You've been cooped up in here, all by yourself, right? Like, for _forever_. You need to get out there, dude. We all agree. And I have the perfect plan."

Isak lifts a brow. He hasn't been 'cooped up', has he? He just wanted some space. "And what is this perfect plan?"

"We go to a gay bar," Eskild says, casually, like he isn't breaking every single boundary they've ever established between the two of them.

Isak chokes. Then he laughs. Then he notices that Eskild looks genuinely hurt, and stops.

"You're serious," he says, blinking in shock. "You're… serious."

"Look," Eskild starts, frowning. "I know you're straight. I get that. But it would do you good to let you… _unwind_ , and relax. Think of it as a favour to me, if you want. I let you live here, after all."

And Isak somehow knew he would pull that card out, of course he would. And really, what can Isak say to counter that?

"Fine," he says, shaking his head in disbelief at himself. "Fine, yeah, sure. We'll go. Next weekend?"

Eskild's winning smile is almost enough to make up for this entire situation. He looks like he just won the lottery, his face practically shining.

"Next weekend sounds perfect," he says. Then he pats Isak's leg twice and stands up. "I'll see you around, then."

And then he's gone, and Isak's left to wonder what the actual fuck he just agreed to.

 

* * *

 

 

"What's up?" Jonas asks and slams Isak lightly on the back, sitting down next to him. He looks tired – no, _exhausted_ , and Isak frowns in worry. There's still ten minutes until the class begins, and there's no one in the classroom besides them.

"You okay, man?" Isak asks, eyeing Jonas.

Jonas shakes his head, and slumps down on the table, his head hitting the desk with a soft thud. "No," he mumbles, and then, presumably, sighs. He turns his head, which is still resting against the desk, and looks at Isak from under his brows. "I don't know. I guess not. I didn't really sleep last night."

And Isak can relate, he really can, but this isn't normal for Jonas. Jonas doesn't lose sleep, he's not that kind of a person. He's the kind of a person who takes everything in a stride, who doesn't worry but still cares about everyone with the kind of love Isak hadn't thought a person to be capable of.

"Why?" He asks carefully, testing the ice. If Jonas doesn't want to talk, Isak's not going to make him. He knows very well how sometimes you just don't want to open up. But Jonas has been his best friend since forever, and Isak can't very well ignore it if something's bothering him.

Jonas purses his lips, and closes his eyes, either because he's tired or because he doesn't want to look at Isak.

"It's just… my dad," he begins, and he's talking so quietly that Isak has to lean closer. "He came home last night, without a warning. A word would've been nice. Like, yo, coming back from rehab, stay fresh. Or whatever. Just something would've been nice."

Isak doesn't know what to say. He hasn't seen Jonas' dad in years, not ever since he went to rehab for the first time. And usually, they never talk about him. Jonas doesn't want to, and Isak doesn't want to force him.

"He's back?" He eventually settles on. "Why?"

Jonas does his best attempt at a shrug, and opens his eyes. He's looking forward, his eyes glassed over. "Who the fuck knows. He says he's better. 'For real this time'," he says, and Isak hears the quotation marks. "But I don't buy it. And I don't want him in my house. He doesn't deserve to come back like that."

Isak nods. "Can't you get rid of him? Call… I don't know. Social services?"

Jonas scoffs, but not in a mean way. "I don't know. I don't think he's going anywhere, and anyway, he hasn't done anything so I have no reason to call anyone." Isak hears the silent _yet_ in Jonas' words.

"I'm sorry," Isak says, for the lack of better words. "But hey, either he'll go or maybe things will be better. You just gotta wait it out."

Jonas nods. "I can't sleep when he's in the house," he confesses.

"Maybe you could stay with me for a while?" Isak asks, before he can think about.

But Jonas shakes his head. "Nah. I can deal with this, don't worry about it."

Which is the worst thing to say to Isak, who now obviously _does worry about it_. He can't stand seeing Jonas upset, not like this, and the worst thing is he can't do anything about it.

"You can always talk to me," Isak offers weakly. "You know that, right?"

"Yeah," Jonas says, and he smiles at Isak. "Thanks."

Then the class is flooded with the rest of their classmates, and their conversation dies away.

The rest of the week feels like a fever dream as Isak awaits the weekend. He's not sure whether he's nervous, or excited, or both.

Probably both.

Eskild had promised him a good time, and Isak trusts Eskild. Maybe he's right – Isak's been a little more withdrawn than usual. He just hasn't felt like talking to people, much less spending time with anyone. He's not sure why. School's stressful, but not _that_ stressful. He just feels different. He doesn't know yet whether it's different in a good or a bad way.

He's been thinking about soulmates again lately. About the possibility that there might be someone for him. The problem is that when Isak tries to picture his soulmate, he's not sure which gender they should be. The natural choice should be a girl – because he's a guy, and guys are supposed to like girls.

But maybe he doesn't. Maybe…

But no. Obviously Isak likes girls. He likes Vilde, and he likes Linn, and Noora, and Eva. He likes all of them – he just doesn't _like_ like any of them.

He's never really had a crush on anyone. Isak thinks maybe there's something wrong with him, but he's never been interested in any girl. Well, there was Juulia, but now that he thinks back to those times he realizes that what he felt for her couldn't really be described as anything but platonic. And it's not like he can talk about this to anyone. Jonas would just say he'll one day find someone, Mahdi would laugh at him, and Magnus would make fun of him for the lack of his "game".

So, Isak doesn't think he'll ever find a soulmate. Not while he's a mess like this. His parents didn't work out, and they're soulmates. Sometimes, when Isak's on his lowest, he thinks that his parents don't care about him. Which is ridiculous, he knows, but he can't help it.

They were fine with Isak leaving. They never tried to get him back.

And maybe Isak isn't worth missing, anyway.

* * *

 

 

As Friday rolls in, Isak feels himself fill with dread. The entire day in school he's like a bundle of nerves. Jonas has to ask, twice, if everything is alright with him. Both times Isak lies and says he's fine. He doesn't really know why. It's not like they'd think less of him because he's going to a gay bar – and he's not even doing it for the pleasure of it, but because he's being practically blackmailed into it. It's not like he _wants_ to go.

Well. Maybe a little bit. Just to see what it's like, that's it. And to show his support to Eskild. And-

Who's he even kidding. He's curious as hell. And scared. Because sexuality, to him, is this big messy jumble he doesn't want to particularly explore, because he's scared of what he might find there. He knows he finds girls… Alright? Like, they're not the greatest thing ever invented like his friends seem to think, but they're fun to hang out with, he supposes. Some of them are, objectively, kind of cute. And guys… well. That's the part he doesn't want to think about.

So, he doesn't. He buries it deep inside his mind and puts a lock on it and goes about his day like normal.

English is the last class of the day, and the minutes drag on endlessly. Isak swears the clock doesn't move at all for at least five minutes. When it's finally three o'clock, Isak is home in record time.

Then he hides himself away in his room and curls up on his bed, his hands around his knees in a protective way.

Why did he agree to this? This is ridiculous. Isak doesn't even want to go. Except he does. He really, really does. And it's terrifying. And he doesn't want to think about it, not at all. Isak closes his eyes and aggressively Doesn't Think About It.

Eskild comes home around six, and finds Isak in the bathroom, fixing his hair, trying to look like the picture book of calmness.

"We're leaving in a few," Eskild says, and eyes Isak knowingly. Or maybe he's just imagining it.

"Sure," Isak tries to say in a nonchalant way, but his voice is kind of squeaky and it comes across more panicked than he truly intended. "I'll be ready in five."

Eskild eyes him up and down, judgmentally. "I suppose you could look worse," he says finally and disappears off into the living room.

Isak looks after him, frowning.

Exactly five past seven Isak's stuffed in the back of a car with an uncomfortable amount of awkwardness in the air. Eskild's driving, which Isak doesn't think is very wise, but he's afraid of saying anything so he just goes with it. They drive for ten minutes before the car stutters to a stop, and Isak feels like throwing up. Instead he gets out of the car and slams the door shut with slightly trembling fingers.

Eskild is already off to the direction of the door, walking with confidence Isak wishes he had. He follows in suit, because he doesn't really know what else he's supposed to be doing, and Eskild doesn't seem too keen on giving him any instructions. Or any help at all, really.

The inside of the bar is… surprisingly normal. Isak's not sure what he was expecting, but it wasn't _this_. It's a relatively spacious room, with a counter and a dancefloor and everything else you're supposed to have in a bar. The only difference between this and the other places Isak's been to is that there's a few rainbow flags covering the walls. That's about it.

Eskild turns to him, finally, and grins. He spreads his hands as if to show off the place. "So, what do you think?"

Isak nods, a smile threatening to break on his face. "It's… it's nice. It's very nice. Shockingly nice."

Eskild shoots him a knowing look, again, and leads him to the counter.

Isak's downfall begins with a shot of tequila. After that he keeps drinking, and Eskild keeps encouraging him, which leads to a not-so-good cycle of Isak doing shots and then regretting it and then continuing anyway.

And he finds that he's having _fun_. There's music, and there's a guy sitting next to him, and the guy has very nice hair if Isak is being objective – and he is, he's just observing facts, and objectively, the hair is very nice. The Guy With Nice Hair, who introduces himself as Bo, asks Isak to dance, later, and he's two hours and too many shots in and can't think a single good reason to say no.

So, they dance. Isak laughs a lot, and keeps stepping on Bo's toes, and then he laughs some more because _Bo's toes_ rhymes and he thinks it's the funniest thing in the world. Bo feels warm against Isak, who realizes, belatedly, that what he's doing is kind of gay. He also realizes he doesn't care, not really. So they keep dancing, and then Isak keeps drinking, and then before midnight Eskild is dragging him forcibly to the car.

Isak lays horizontally across the backseats as they take off.

"Did you have fun?" Eskild asks after a while, and it takes Isak a little while to process the sentence.

"Fun, yes. I had fun," he says cheerfully. "Do you want to know a secret, Issy?"

Eskild either laughs or cries, Isak can't really tell, and then says, "I'd love to hear it. If you want to tell."

"I have to tell," Isak says matter-of-factly. He props himself up with one elbow, which is a bad idea, because they drive over a bump on the road and Isak falls and hurts himself in the progress. So, instead, he rolls to his back and stares at the roof of the car.

"I don't think…" he starts, then pauses. Frowns. Open his mouth. Closes it. Opens it again. "I don't think I'm straight," he finally says.

There's a silence, but not a long one, and then Eskild says: "I know."

And that's that.

* * *

 

 

Isak wakes up with a killer hangover, and the painful realization that he:

a) totally isn't straight, and

b) totally told Eskild about it

And then he wants to go into hiding for forever and die a hermit in the mountains. Isak buries his head into his pillow, and screams a little.

He danced with a guy. And he _liked it_. And he _wanted to do more_. And he _told Eskild_.

Isak rolls over with his eyes still closed, and the world spins a little.

So, maybe this isn't the end of the world. Isak knew he didn't feel much for girls. He knew he didn't want to think about how much he felt for guys. Now he's reached the level of self-awareness where he needs to acknowledge both of these things, not as individual but as a unit, and come to terms with it.

Not a big deal.

Kind of a big deal.

An _enormous_ deal.

Isak feels like crying, and he's not sure whether it's out of relief or not. He thinks maybe this is meant to be some sort of a big moment, where he realizes he's been in the hiding about his true self and now he's free and blah blah blah. Mostly Isak just feels sick. Because of the hangover, not because he's… gay, or whatever.

Maybe if he doesn't move at all, the constant want to throw up will leave.

It doesn't, and a few bathroom trips later Isak's buried under two blankets and has a shitty movie playing on his laptop in the background for some comforting noise. He thinks it's some kind of a rom-com, but he can't be bothered to look at the screen, so all he knows is some segments of crappy dialogue that he hears from time to time.

It's got a decent soundtrack, though.

Around two in the afternoon there's a knock on the door. The movie has ended, so Isak breaks the silence with a hoarse "Come in".

Eskild opens the door. Isak almost rolls his eyes, but figures it would probably just make his headache worse and instead doesn't.

Eskild sits down on the bed, and looks at Isak with a strange mix of pity and smugness.

"Morning, sunshine," he says, and Isak grumbles. Then Eskild offers him a glass of water, and Isak forgets all the insults he had prepared in his head.

"Morning," he replies, his voice still hoarse, and honestly, it kind of suits him. He takes the water and downs the glass in one go, then sets it on the floor. "What's up?"

Eskild seems to hesitate for a while, fiddling with his fingers. Then: "So how much of yesterday do you remember?"

Isak kind of feels like burying his head in a pillow again but resists the temptation. He has to face this like a man. Or a 17-year old boy. Whatever.

"A lot," he confesses. "I, uh, danced with that guy. Bo?"

The smugness is definitely there on Eskild's face. "You did. You seemed to be into it."

Isak definitely doesn't blush. "I mean," he starts, flustered. "Maybe. A bit."

The smugness vanishes a bit, and some sort of hesitation mixed with understanding mixed with sadness takes over Eskild's face. "So you remember what you told me, yeah?"

"Hard to forget," Isak mumbles. "It's the sort of thing that if they made a movie about your life it'd be like, a turning point, or some shit. Like there'd be dramatic music and it'd be like this defining thing that changed everything."

"And was it?"

"I don't think so." Isak frowns. "I mean, this is the first time I'm admitting it to myself. I guess. But it doesn't feel like… like a big thing. You know?"

And instead of laughing at him, like Isak half expected him to, Eskild nods. "Yeah. When I first realized, I felt the same. It was like, "Oh, I should've known this", but not like… "Oh, my life just turned on its head". It just felt like a thing that I'd known but hadn't addressed. And then it was out there, and that was it. I moved on with my life, and nothing had changed, except now I knew I was gay."

Isak nods. "Exactly. Exactly like that."

There's a long silence, and just as it is turning past the point of uncomfortable and into excruciating, Eskild talks again.

"Are you going to tell anyone?"

Isak honestly doesn't know. He supposes he should, at least to Jonas, and Magnus, and Mahdi. They're his friends – they deserve to know, he figures. But he doesn't really want to. It'd feel like then he'd be too different. Like he wouldn't belong. And he doesn't want that. Isak already sort of feels like an outsider in the group, he doesn't need it to be any worse than it already is.

He says as much. "We'll see. Not in a while, at least. I don't- I don't want to be the odd one out. The one gay kid in a herd of straight people."

Eskild snorts. "That's how I feel all the time. Trust me, you get used to it. Just wait until you're in a group of straight guys and they all start talking about girls. It's _hell_." He pauses. "Take your time," he says softly. "You don't need to tell everyone immediately. You don't need to tell anyone, if that's what you want. It's your business."

Isak gives a nod as a response.

Just as Eskild is leaving, Isak calls his name and he turns around.

"Did you know?" At Eskild's puzzled look, he clarifies. "When you asked me to go with you, did you know. How the night would end."

Eskild smiles. "I hoped."

Isak turns his eyes away, and bites his lower lip. "Thank you," he says. "For… everything."

Eskild doesn't reply, but Isak's pretty sure he hears an amused chuckle before the door falls shut.

* * *

 

 

It's Monday, and Isak wants to die.

Well, that's an exaggeration. He just feels like shit. His last night was spent tossing and turning in his bed until it was five o'clock, after which he slept for two hours before his alarm clock started blaring next to his ear.

A brilliant morning, really. He's on top of his game. On top of the _world_. If the world was a cliff from which he wanted to jump off.

The guys aren't helping the situation. Jonas is re-telling his weekend, about how he flirted with not one, not two, but _three_ different girls at a party. Magnus managed to, once again, not get laid after his attempts at flirting fell short. And Mahdi scored "the hottest chick you've ever seen, man". Isak is happy for them, really, he is, but he also doesn't give a shit right now.

"So, Isak, how was your weekend?" Jonas asks finally once they're done reminiscing about their "hot chicks". Isak wants to hit his face against the table, but he doesn't, because they already think he's acting suspiciously.

"Eh, you know," he says. "Whatever. Spent some time with Eskild. Watched some movies. Boring stuff."

His mind flashes back to Bo, and his nice hair, and his even nicer face. Boring stuff. Sure.

"That's lame," Magnus says, looking disappointed. "Did you really not do anything?"

Isak smiles. "Nope. Nothing."

Jonas squints his eyes and leans closer over the table. "You're a fucking liar," he says. "What did you do?"

And Isak doesn't know where Jonas acquired his sixth sense to know whenever Isak was bullshitting him, he really doesn't, but it's creepy and weird and inconvenient as all hell. Before Isak can come up with a good enough lie, his eyes catch someone on the yard.

It's a guy he's never seen before. He's tall, like, _really_ tall. He walks like he's always been to this school, which Isak knows isn't true. His hair is even nicer than Bo The Guy With Nice Hair's hair was – it looks effortless, in a way that Isak takes to mean he spent at least an hour styling it. He's wearing a scarf. Isak can't really see his face from the distance, but he bets it looks great, too.

"Who's that?" He asks, pointing in the direction of the new guy, and his friends simultaneously turns their heads and look like the least subtle people on the planet.

"Oh, that guy," Jonas says like Isak should know who he is and is stupid for not knowing. "He's new. Transferred like a week ago. Everyone's talking about him – apparently he's like, super cool or something."

"Cooler than we'll ever be," Magnus says almost bitterly and turns back.

"Not like that takes a lot of effort," Mahdi scoffs and turns back as well.

Now only Isak is staring at him. He hopes that the guy doesn't notice, because it would be kind of awkward. And while Isak's used to awkward, he doesn't want his first impression to this guy to be _weird stalker_.

As if reading his thoughts, though, the guy turns around and looks straight at Isak, who feels his cheeks flushing. The guy smiles at him, briefly, and then turns around and walks inside the school. Isak swallows nervously, and tries to pay attention to the argument Jonas is having with Mahdi about which girl from their maths class is hotter, Ella or Julia.

He doesn't see the guy for the rest of the day. Then Vilde recruits them for the stupid kosegruppa thing, and honestly, Isak couldn't give less of a fuck. But then she says that the new guy is coming, and, well. Isak can't deny himself this opportunity.

So, he goes. And the meeting _sucks_. And no matter how pretty the new guy is (and he really is), he's just not worth all this.

Just as Isak's about to leave, he hears someone clear their throat behind him. He turns only to find himself face to face with the new guy, who's smiling in a way that should, most definitely, be illegal.

"Hi," the guy says, and _god_ his voice sounds like silk.

Isak forgets what words are for a few seconds, before mentally slapping himself. "Hey," he replies. "I saw you today," he continues, like a fucking idiot. Then he mentally slaps himself again.

"I saw you, too," the guy says, clearly amused. He nods towards the doors. "Let's go outside, yeah?"

And so they do. They sit on the bench that's in front of the building, and the guy starts smoking, and because Isak is a very, very weak person, he shares the joint.

They sit in silence for a few minutes, before Isak musters up the courage to talk.

"So, what's your name?" He asks.

"Even," the guy says, and Isak thinks it's a very pretty name.

 _You came to terms with your sexuality like a day ago_ , he thinks to himself, desperately. _What's wrong with you?_

"I'm Isak," he says, and they shake hands. Even's fingers feel warm.

"So, what brought you to this meeting?" Even asks, eyeing Isak with a smile.

Well. He can't tell the truth, can he? _Yeah, funny story, ha ha, I came because I thought you were really fucking beautiful, ha ha, right?_

"Oh, um. I'm friends with Vilde, kind of, so it, uh, seemed like the right thing to do, you know?" He manages to say, and he wants to _physically_ slap himself.

"I see," Even says. He stubs the joint out with his shoe. "That's really nice of you."

"I guess I'm just a nice guy," Isak says, and then he closes his eyes in embarrassment. "That was the worst thing to say _ever_. I'm so sorry."

But Even simply laughs, and his laughter is probably the most beautiful thing on Earth, and Isak can't help but feel a little happy on the inside as they sit there, together, under the stars.

God, he's a sap.

* * *

 

 

They hang out the next day, because somehow Isak was able to fish Even's phone number out of him between all the awkward interludes and terrible pick-up lines that weren't really pick-up lines at all.

They meet after school, and Isak would be lying if he said he wasn't nervous. Even, while being extremely funny and exceedingly entertaining, was also, undoubtedly, terrifying. Because the last time Isak liked someone, _really_ liked someone, was, like, never. And crushes, he's heard, are supposed to be terrifying. Which makes him feel a little bit better, but not much, as they take the bus to go to Even's place.

They're going to Even's place. Going. To. Even's. Place. Isak thinks the might throw up from his nerves. These things don't go like this in the movies. In movies, the crush is always _slow_ to develop, first of all. Not this hit and score bullshit where it took one night for Isak to want to spend more and more time with Even. Second of all, the one with the crush didn't just _make friends_ with their crush like this. Not this easily. Not this fast. Not like this.

Isak wishes his life was more like the movies. But also he doesn't, because he _gets to go to Even's place_.

The bus ride doesn't take too long, and soon enough they find themselves in Even's apartment. Isak thinks his room is the coolest room he's ever seen.

The drawings are almost too much.

"You made these?" He asks, leaning closer to look at the works. And they're beautiful, really, they are, and Isak can't believe Even's this talented while he himself can't even draw a straight line.

Ha. Straight.

"Yep," Even confirms, sitting on his bed. "You can have one, if you'd like."

Instead of saying something ridiculous, like, _I want to scream_ , or, _but they're too precious for my dirty hands_ , Isak smiles in a way that he hopes looks normal. "That'd be nice," he says. "I'd love to."

He sits on the floor, because he's not quite ready to sit next to Even just yet. "So, you draw. What else can you do?"

Even considers the question for a while. "Well," he starts. "I play the piano. And the guitar. And I'm not a terrible singer."

Isak thinks he might spontaneously combust right then and there. He swallows, and blinks, and manages a squeaky, "Really?"

Even nods to confirm. "Yeah, my parents were pretty intense about the whole music thing. My dad used to play in a band, so he wanted me to… I don't know, take over the family mantel."

"And did you?" Isak asks, and he's glad to find his voice sounds mostly normal.

"I didn't, to his disappointment. But I do know a few instruments, so that should be enough for him."

"I'm sure he's proud of you," Isak says, and feels a little dumb, but Even just smiles.

"I'd have to ask him, but, thank you. You're very sweet, you know," Even says, and Isak thinks all these kinds of sentiments should be forbidden, because they're doing weird things to his heart. Currently, it's beating in a way that Isak thinks isn't entirely healthy.

"You too," he replies. "I mean, you're sweet. I guess."

Even lifts a brow, and grins. "You guess?"

"You are," Isak corrects. "Anyway, what kind of music are you into?" He asks, desperate to change the topic.

It works.

"Jazz," Even says, with a deadpan expression. Then, when Isak looks at him with his best _are-you-fucking-kidding-me_ expressions, he starts to laugh. "No, I'm joking. Really, though, I'm into rap."

Isak's entire face brightens. "You are? Me too, dude."

And they bond over their shared love of rap, which leads them to talk about movies, which leads to a million other topics that they can think of. Isak finally leaves, a little after eight, feeling entirely too happy with himself.

They hang out like that, casually, on and off, for a month. They meet after school, but never _at_ school. The most they do at school is nod at each other, or maybe smile, or maybe wave a hand. Nothing more. Isak doesn't know why. Maybe because he's still scared. Maybe because he doesn't want to ruin this. Maybe a thousand other reasons.

Little by little, Isak tells Even more stuff about him. They talk about their lives, their likes and dislikes, their shared interest, they argue over music and they bond over movies and they laugh over tales of Jonas' and Isak's childhood.

Isak talks about his mom, carefully, one evening. Words like _worry_ and _care_ and _love_ colour his story, and he finds that the misses his mom more than he allows himself to. And Even listens, and lets him talk, and then tells about his own mental health issues, and the evening ends with both of them crying and Isak thinks it's probably one of the best days of his entire life.

And it doesn't take a genius to figure out that, yes, Isak definitely has a crush on Even. And on good days he thinks Even might like him back. On bad days, he thinks maybe Even is straight.

On extraordinary days, Isak stares at the empty skin of his inner arm and wishes more than anything that maybe, just maybe, the way that they so naturally _click_ has a reason. That maybe it was meant to be.

But every day, his arm remains spotless. There's no mark to signify anything at all, and Isak, despite his natural optimism, lets himself be disappointed by this.

But he's content being friends with Even. If that's all they're going to be, he's grateful to even be that much. And at the end of the day, that's all that matters, Isak thinks, and he doesn't cry, he definitely doesn't cry, because who cares about some stupid soulmate mark anyway?

* * *

 

 

It's two months after they first hung out when it happens. They're killing time, in Isak's room this time, trying to talk their way through boredom as their untouched homework lies on the floor. Isak's leaning against the wall, and Even's sitting next to him, pressed against his side, and it feels oddly domestic, and Isak feels guilty for thinking so but he can't help it.

"What did you think about the song I linked you?" Even asks, suddenly, breaking the silence. His voice floats close to Isak, who still thinks Even's every word sounds like music. Which is _extremely_ sappy to think about, and Isak knows this, but it's not like he can control his own thoughts.

He turns his head to reply, but the words die in his mouth, because Even is _so close_ , and his lips are _right there_ , and Isak finds that the doesn't really give a damn anymore. Fuck consequences, fuck rules, fuck _we're just friends_.

He leans closer, just a few inches, testing the waters. And for some reason, so does Even, and before Isak has time to panic or re-think his decision, their lips meet.

Even tastes like heaven. Isak can't think of a better description as he presses closer, lifting his hands to tangle it in Even's hair, and soon Even falls to his back and Isak follows and topples on top of him.

They break apart, Isak lying between Even's legs, and stare at each other. Isak's blinking slowly, and his entire mind feels blank, and Even looks so _beautiful_ , there, that he wants to keep kissing him forever. Or maybe longer than that.

"That…" Even starts, his voice low, surprised. "That was something." He's staring into Isak's eyes, and there's a happy, tiny smile on his face, and Isak thinks he might be the luckiest man alive.

"That was something," he repeats. "That. Um. I've wanted to do that for a while."

And Even's smile turns into a wide, sappy grin. "Me, too. I was waiting for you to make a move, but you never did. I was getting tired of waiting, you know."

"As if I wasn't super obvious about my crush," Isak scoffs, but he's smiling so it kind of ruins the effect.

Then something catches his attention. He sees it from the corner of his eye, on his right arm, where his fingers are still tangled in Even's hair. There's a mark on his wrist, a sort of an ornate black triangle which shines against his skin, and Isak feels his heart stop for a second. He untangles himself from Even and sits up, ignoring the huffed "rude" Even lets out.

"Look," Isak says, out of breath, and offers his wrist to Even.

Even blinks. Then frowns. Then looks down at his own wrist, where there's a similar triangle.

"What the fuck," Even says, and then grins even wider than before. "I fucking knew it. I knew it. Of course this happened. I fucking called it. Or, well, I _hoped_."

"I never thought-" And the words catch in Isak's throat.

He can't explain his feelings. All his life, he's thought he wasn't worth a soul mark. Wasn't worth being the second half of anyone. Wasn't worth anything at all. And now here's Even, proudly, _happily_ , showing off his soul mark and Isak wants to cry, but he doesn't.

"I didn't think I'd ever find that person," Isak confesses, and he feels his body deflating as the adrenaline brought by the sight of the mark leaves. His bones feel heavy, and he sags against the wall. "I didn't think- I mean, I hoped it was you, but. I don't know. I guess I didn't think I was worth it. Or… whatever."

And now he's ruined it. They had a beautiful moment, a great moment, and Isak has gone and ruined it, because that's what he does best, isn't it?

Even's leaning closer, worried, and Isak wants to hit his head against the wall.

"Not worth it?" Even asks, and Isak sighs.

"I mean. Yeah. I'm not like, a great person. And… and I didn't think… I mean, this is a _big_ thing. Like a huge thing. And I didn't believe that the universe was kind enough to let me have something like that, you know?"

Even takes Isak's hands in his, and it feels comforting, like coming home, and now Isak's eyes are watering, and he averts his eyes to look at anywhere but Even. _I won't cry. I won't cry. I won't cry._

" _Isak,_ " Even sighs gently. "You're worth so much. If you have some weird complex about not being worth me, then let me assure you, it's very much not true. No one has to be worth anyone, that's not how this works. We are, we just are, and that's how it is. And I'm glad the universe was kind enough to let me have you, Isak. I am. I'll forever be in debt to the universe, in fact."

And Isak looks up, blinking rapidly to keep the tears away, and _this_ , he thinks, _this_ is the moment in the movie about his life which changes everything, this is the defining moment, and nothing before or after this really matters at all.

"I'm lucky to have you," he says back. "If it had to be someone, it had to be you. It had to. Nothing else would've made sense."

And then Even pulling him in for a hug, and Isak lets him, and they sit there, in each other's arms, and everything feels a little bit better.

 

* * *

 

 

Jonas is the first one to notice something has changed, because of course he is. Isak's not surprised – Jonas has always been able to read him the best. Ever since they were children, he's seen right through Isak and his bullshit.

They're at school, outside, and Isak's smiling in Even's direction, hoping against all odds that he doesn't look quite as sappy as he truly feels. The sad truth is that he probably does. Even waves at him, and Isak waves back. He's thinking about walking over to where Even is, the crowds be damned.

But then the moment is ruined as Jonas drops down opposite to him, and fixes Isak with one of his _looks_ , the one which says that Isak better start talking and not lie.

"Spill it," he says, and Isak feels his smile draining a little.

"What?" Isak manages. He's not ready for this. Jonas isn't meant to know, not yet, not now, not in this moment. Because Isak had a plan, really, he did. About coming out and telling about Even and all of that. He had a speech planned out, and it's a good speech, emotional and everything. But he was going to give it in the relative future. Jonas, apparently, has other plans.

"I said, spill it. Something's up with you. You've been different lately. You keep disappearing after school, you never hang out with us anymore, you don't come to any of the parties. You seem like a different person. What happened?" Jonas doesn't look mad, just curious, and Isak suddenly feels bad for abandoning his friends for so long. He hadn't meant to, but he supposes he's been pretty occupied with Even and all of that.

"It's just… stuff. Stuff happened." He pauses, and knows that's not enough for Jonas. "How do I seem different?"

Jonas shrugs, and slings his bag from his shoulder. It falls to the bench. "Like, happier. Calmer. You don't look so tired all the time, I guess. And you have this, like, healthier feeling to you. I can't really explain it, but you just seem like an upgraded version of yourself. Not that there was anything wrong with the old version, either."

Isak ducks his head and smiles. He supposed he's been happier, lately. Even makes him happier, as cliché as it sounds. And he hasn't had that much sleeping problems, either. It's not like Even's presence has fixed everything, but it sure has made things better. A lot better.

"Uh, well. Okay." He decides to bite the bullet. "If you _have_ to know, something _has_ happened. There's this one… person. That I'm kind of into. We have a thing. And I guess I'm happier because of that."

Jonas leans closer, smiling slightly. "I knew it. Who is she? Do I know her?"

Isak shakes his head. "No, you don't. And…"

The silence stretches. Isak absentmindedly strokes the soul mark through the sleeve of his hoodie, to calm himself down.

"And?" Jonas encourages him. He looks supportive, and happy for Isak, and Isak knows he has to tell the truth. Because this is _Jonas_.

Isak takes a deep breath, and then finishes the sentence. "And it's not a girl."

Jonas stares at him silently for a few seconds, blinking slowly. And then a wide grin breaks across his face, and he looks happier than Isak's seen him a while. And then it's Isak's turn to blink in shock.

"That's great," Jonas says, and he sounds like he means it. "That's amazing, Isak. Do I know _him,_ then?"

Isak's mouth isn't cooperating with his brains. He opens it, closes it, opens it again. "You're okay with this?" He finally asks.

Jonas looks mildly offended at the question. "Isak," he starts, sternly. "Obviously, I'm okay with this. Whatever it is you are. Why would I judge you for who you are?" He pauses, then frowns slightly. "Are you gay? Bisexual? Or whatever that one thing is? If I can ask."

And then it hits Isak, that Jonas really is okay with this. He'd worried over nothing. And he supposes he should've known it, because Jonas knows him inside out and has always been there for Isak, through good and bad, and vice versa. Of course he wouldn't mind this.

"I'm, uh, gay, I guess," he says, and it feels strange to say it out loud. Strange, and in a way, liberating. Because now it's out there, in the open, and it feels _good_.

Jonas smiles again. "That's cool. So, do I know this mystery man of yours?"

Isak begins to grin. "I guess, in a way. You know the guy who transferred here, some months ago?"

"You're joking," Jonas says, his mouth hanging open. "You're dating _him_? He's like, the coolest."

Isak blushes. "He is. His name's Even."

Jonas is shaking his head in disbelief. "That's so awesome, dude. What the hell. How did you manage to score that one? Your pick-up lines _suck_."

They both laugh, loudly, and freely.

"I really don't know," Isak admits. "It just happened." He takes a considering pause. "And, uh, there's something I have to show you, now that you know."

Jonas quirks an eyebrow. "Show? What the fuck are you on about, man?"

Isak rolls his sleeves up and places his arm on the table between them, the mark visible. The decorations are swirling around the triangle lazily, which means neither of them is upset or angry.

Jonas looks at the mark, his eyes bulging. Then, carefully, and with some hesitation, he reached out an traces the outline of the triangle with his finger. He withdraws almost immediately, but keeps his eyes on Isak's skin.

"Is that…?"

"A soul mark, yeah. Isn't it gorgeous?"

Jonas looks speechless, staring at the mark in wonder. "It is," he agrees. "It- wow. So he's your soulmate, then?"

Isak nods. "He is."

Jonas looks up at Isak, a soft smile gracing his face. "That's amazing. I'm happy for you, Isak, I am."

Before Isak can reply, two people flop down on the table, Mahdi next to Jonas and Magnus next to Isak. Isak has no time to hide the mark, but he still draws his hand back and rolls his sleeved down.

Magnus is looking at the space where his hand was a second ago, eyes wide.

"Dude," he starts, slowly. " _Dude_. Was that what I think it was?"

"Show us, man," Mahdi says, leaning closer towards Isak's arm over the table like Jonas did a short while ago.

And Isak can't really deny it, can he? He sighs, and rolls his sleeves up again, showing Magnus and Mahdi the mark.

" _Duuude_ ," Magnus says as he looks at it. "What the fuck. How long?"

Isak's not sure, now that he thinks about it. "A month or so, I guess?" He roughly estimates, though it feels longer than that.

"That's… what the fuck," Magnus repeats in disbelief. "Who is she?"

Isak's getting really tired of heteronormativia, he is. Jonas shoots him an encouraging look across the table, as if to say, _do it, man_.

"It's the guy who transferred here in the beginning of the year," Isak mumbles. "Even. I'm sure you've seen him."

Magnus gasps, and Isak is ready for something bad, when his friends surprise him for the second time today.

"He's the coolest fucking person in this entire school," Magnus breathes, and Isak looks up.

"For real," Mahdi agrees, nodding his head. "How the _fuck_ did you score someone like that?"

Jonas snaps his fingers excitedly. "That's exactly what I said! Isak has like, zero game, right? And I bet Even has mad game. They're like, on different planets."

"Exactly," Magnus says. He looks at Isak critically. "Man. You're gay _and_ you have a soulmate? What else have you been keeping from us, huh? You got some secret superpowers or something? Can you fly? I bet you can fly. Or turn invisible. Come on, you can trust us, Isak."

And then the conversation turns to superheroes, and everyone forgets momentarily about Isak and his gayness and his soul mark, and it's like nothing happened at all.

And Isak has never been more grateful for his friends in his life.

 

* * *

 

 

Isak's hanging in the kitchen, Even by his side. There's music playing softly in the background, coming from the direction of the living room. They're alone, for the time being, though Isak can tell by the way Eskild was bouncing around this morning that it won't last long.

Eskild hasn't officially met Even yet, and he's burning with excitement at the prospect of meeting "Isak's man", as he says. Isak doesn't mind. He's happy, happier than he's been in ages.

"What are you thinking about?" Even asks, reaching his arm around Isak's lower back and letting it rest on his waist.

Isak presses closer to Even, a smile curling on his face. "You," he says, and then laughs. "Wow, that was sappy. I hate us."

"Well, I _love_ us," Even says, and it feels like he's saying something more than that, but Isak's not quite ready for that yet.

"We're kind of adorable," Isak admits.

People keep telling them that. After Isak came out to his friends, the rest of the school didn't really matter. He and Even and started hanging out in school, holding hands in school, kissing in school. Most people are cool (or more than cool) with it, and Isak feels like he's made more acquaintances in the past few weeks than he has in the entire time he's being in school.

And no, it's not all roses and sunshine and puppies, of course it's not. There are people who are not okay with them. But Isak doesn't care about the people who sometimes say rude things. They don't matter, not in the grand scheme of things. They're just sad people, who find meaning to life in being mean to others. Isak doesn't have to care about them. And he doesn't.

Isak turns to Even and presses a kiss to his jawline.

Before Even can turn his head for a proper kiss, there's a knock on the wall where the door frame is, and Isak looks up. Eskild is standing in the frame, leaning against it, with a wide smile.

"Hey," he says, giving them a wave.

"Hey," Isak replies. "Come in."

And Eskild does. He takes a few steps closer and stops near Even and Isak, his hands in his pockets. He seems nervous.

"So, you're Even," Eskild says, looking at the person in question with a reserved smile.

Even nods, eyeing Eskild warmly. "You must be Eskild," he says, and Eskild nods.

"That's me. I hope Isak hasn't said too many bad things about me – or if he has, don't believe anything he says. He's a nasty liar."

Isak rolls his eyes. "Don't be so dramatic, Issy."

Eskild snorts. "Wow, you haven't called me that since that night you were drunk and we went–"

Isak hushes him loudly, and Eskild laughs.

Even looks between them, amused. "What? What happened?"

" _Nothing_ ," Isak says.

"I took Isak to a gay bar," Eskild says at the same time.

Even turns to look at Isak, his brows lifted way up in confusion. "You've been to a gay bar, Isak? What else have you kept from me?"

Isak's regretting letting Eskild meet Even. This was a bad idea – the worst. The very worst. This is turning out to be worse than when Even met Jonas, Magnus and Mahdi.

Well, no. That was… a mistake. One that Isak regrets. He's never been more embarrassed.

"He has," Eskild confirms, nodding his head. "I'd had enough of him moping around and decided he needed to get out. So, we went to _The Pineapple_ – you know it?"

To Isak's horror, Even nods.

Eskild continues. "And this idiot starts jugging shots like it's nobody's business. And, okay, maybe I encouraged him to it but I can't be blamed for Isak's mistakes, can I? So anyway, this one guy asks Isak to dance and he goes, because at this point he's _super_ wasted."

"Isak," Even says, pretending to be shocked. "You devil. I didn't know you had this kind of behaviour in you."

Isak blushes, and ducks his head. "This was before I met you, okay? Shut up."

Eskild is grinning mischievously. "Isak danced with _Bo_ for quite a while, you know."

Isak hides his face in the crook of Even's neck. "Shut _up_ ," he mumbles into Even's skin.

"No, I want to know," Even says, and Isak's fairly certain he's grinning. _Traitor_.

"Then I had to drag his sorry ass back to the car, because he couldn't stand straight anymore. And then he came out to me," Eskild finishes his story.

Isak lifts his head. "You left out the part where you _blackmailed_ me into this whole situation," he grumbles.

Even tightens his hold around Isak, and Isak looks in his direction. He's smiling, and looks back at Isak before pressing a kiss to his nose.

"I think that's cute," he says. "And you met me after this?"

"A little after," Isak confirms.

"Imagine if we had met that night," Even says. He's pressing his forehead against Isak's, who can't really concentrate, because Even smells like an intriguing mix of fresh air and perfume and it's so purely _Even_ that he feels his heart jump.

"That would've been bad. I actually was super wasted," Isak replies, grinning. "I'm glad we met when I was sober. You're worth it."

He moves to kiss Even, but then Eskild clears his throat and Even, to Isak's disappointment, pulls back.

Eskild smiles at them, and he's slowly making his way back towards the living room. "It was great meeting you, Even. I'm sure I'll see you around here a lot."

"Pleasure's all mine," Even says, and waves at Eskild with his free hand.

Then Eskild disappear around the corner, and they're alone again.

Isak turns so that he's facing Evan, and lifts his arms so that they're around Even's shoulders, and Even's hands are on his waist.

And when they kiss, it feels like Isak's life is going to be alright.


End file.
